


Conquered

by downtonarry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: A lot of these relationships are eventual, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Anal Sex, Dragons, F/M, Female Zayn, Game of Thrones-esque, M/M, Multi, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, i've taken themes from it, only really really lowkey though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-16
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-04-26 15:14:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5009605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/downtonarry/pseuds/downtonarry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Long ago, in a place not unlike England, four houses ruled the land. House Danalen rules the North, its elderly despot ruining the lives of the already poor and illiterate farmfolk. House Tomlinson of the Northeast rules the smallest of the territories, but their ruler, King Louis, ascended to the throne as a young teen and has been causing mayhem in the territory ever since. King Yaser of House Malik of the South rules over an intellectual and harmonious society, but he and his people are constantly locked into battle with the other houses, othered by their racial difference. House Twist's King Robin is the most violent, ruling over the entirety of the East and West, his presence in the territory sinister at best. </p><p>Prince Harry of House Twist and Princess Zaynah of House Malik are thrown together to keep peace between the two territories, but both underestimated the other's strengths. Liam, a traveling mercenary, discovers he shares a rare skill with the princess, while Niall, originally from the North, now working as Zayn's best servant and friend, has an angry past. Inexperienced King Louis is destroying his territory, but more than that, he is destroying himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my biggest new pet project! It's been on my mind for a long time, so I decided to try putting it into words. 
> 
> I hope you are not turned off by Zayn being a girl, it was the only way for it to work later in the story. 
> 
> As well, most of these relationships are scattered, they will all happen. Several of them are forced marriages, so if you see a ship that turns you off, maybe give this a shot anyway? It's quite possible the ship is not true love. 
> 
> This is also going to be from a mixed perspective. The prologue is from Zayn's, but it will, for the most part, be from all five member's perspectives, once they are introduced. 
> 
> One final note-- this is Sean Cullen: http://instagram.com/p/ldTx4VChmi/?modal=true  
> Irl he is a friend of Niall's in his youth and Niall and Sean are actually my fondest and dearest ship. I hope I can get you to like them too.

“The prince is on his way, yer highness.” 

Zayn looked up. It was just Niall, safe, dear Niall. He was peering around the edge of the doorway, hesitant of whether he should step inside or not. She could imagine his fear. She’s been hostile this morning, perhaps too much so. 

“Please stay, Niall. I need an ally by my side. Just wait on me at tea, nobody will think anything of it.”

“Yer family won’t think so, but he might. Why would ‘ya have a manservant at tea?”

“It doesn’t matter, it isn’t his problem. Stay.” Zayn felt desperate. She was going to lose this battle. She’d won time and time again, but she wouldn’t win this one. Each of the suitors presented to her had been someone she could insist wasn’t good enough for her. But no matter how brutish this one was, she knew her father would insist. 

House Twist. It seemed silly and stupid to have such close ties with the house. It was riddled with violence and bad luck, although she supposed they owned the largest amount of territory, and for all their strife, always seemed to reign supreme. Marrying into the family would make her more powerful, but it wasn’t home and it was vicious. But, diplomacy always won. The boy would come, an ugly boy with a fat head, probably, who would try oafishly to court her before asking over her head if her father would marry her off, and he’d say yes because it was the best way to keep King Robin on his good side. It was ridiculous. The Malik family were strong and didn’t need anybody’s help, yet her father bended to King Robin's whim every time. 

“Yer highness?”

Zayn must have been wandering off again. She snapped her face up to look at Niall, who looked quizzical, almost worried. His blue eyes always got a little too big when he was concerned, and Zayn felt like patting his baby face and telling him not to fret. 

“Yes, dearest?” 

“Ya looked very dazed. We could perhaps say yer unwell to put it off a bit longer.”

“Don’t worry about me, Niall. It will happen. Let’s just get it over with. I hate the feeling of impending doom.”

“He’ll have to get the approval of the girls.” Niall smiled slightly. 

Zayn had to agree with that. She supposed her father hadn’t thought about the consequences to the boy if the dragons didn’t like him. Her thoughts were broke again as her mother rushed in to make sure Zayn was actually in the garden, ready for tea, followed by her older sister. 

“Oh, thank goodness.” Trisha reached over and slightly adjusted a place setting, shooting Niall an irritable glance for not noticing. “Are you ready, my darling?”

“I suppose so. Don’t worry, I’ll behave.”

“Is Horan staying? Oh, love, let me bring in one of your ladies. How odd we’ll come across if you have him here. What will Prince Harry think? He’ll think it very unsettling to see a man caring for your needs.”

“I really don’t care. If I’m to be forced into this, he’ll have to get used to Niall dressing me anyways.”

Trisha looked exasperated. “Hoping we could talk about ending that too. But he is on his way, we’ll leave you now.” She pressed a kiss to Zayn’s cheek, but it just felt hollow. Normally, her mother’s love meant everything to her, but today, it even felt like Trisha was passing her off to this boy. 

“Don’t kill him, right?” Doniya put a hand on Zayn’s shoulder.

“Rich for you to say, you never have to marry in your life if you want.” Zayn shook them off, pulling her chair in closer to the table. “I’ll be fine.”

Zayn bit her lip a bit as they left and the door shifted again. She always tried to be stony, but now she felt like her eyes were going to betray her with tears. This stupid boy. The moment finally arrived, and the illustrious Prince Harry stepped in with his own manservant. The rest of the family would have greeted him in a formal ceremony earlier in the day, but Zayn insisted she wouldn’t meet him in any way other than personally. He’d behave like himself. 

He was tall, for one. He looked a little too dressed up, but Zayn supposed she was too. Long hair, longer than she possibly could have imagined from a prince in his territory. There were plenty of men with long hair in her own, but she’d expected a prince of his sort to have clean and clipped hair. Instead, it was rather curly and came to about his shoulder, looking a little messy despite an obvious attempt to calm it. His face was incredibly delicate, from his pale skin and soft pink lips to his sharp jawbone and sharper green eyes. It was difficult to describe why it looked so delicate, but it was almost as if his skin would tear if it didn’t shatter first. But it wasn’t an unfriendly face, and Harry politely sat, despite Zayn rudely not getting up and curtsying to him first. 

“It’s Princess Zaynah, yes? I don’t want to mispronounce anything. I got your younger sister’s name wrong this morning.”

“Zaynah, yes.” Zayn was rarely called Zaynah by the family, unless she was in trouble, but she wasn’t about to let him in on this.

Harry nodded and waited for Zayn to take something for her plate. It was obvious he wasn’t going to take anything until she did, so she waited. 

“So, Prince Harry.” Zayn glanced towards Niall and he dutifully poured Zayn a cup of tea. “I’ve heard much about you.”

“Good things, I hope?”

“Not particularly. Harry, I don’t mean to insult you, but I don’t care to be forced into marriage.” This was very surprising. Not once had a suitor not immediately said how beautiful she was. 

“Neither do I, you do know. I know it’s very different for me, I have a great deal of leeway compared to yourself about how I can behave in a marriage, but I did not ask to see you. I’d rather chose my own wife.”

Zayn felt startled. He was being truthful, and Zayn admitted to herself she didn’t like hearing she hadn’t been lusted after by this boy, but it was more refreshing to hear him speak honestly. She took a small cake to reward him, and he dutifully took several tarts himself. 

“Alright, Prince Harry. You don’t want to be here either. But you’re going to be king one day yourself, why didn’t you tell your father you didn’t wish to see me?”

“That man is not my father.”

This was going worse than Zayn thought. She’d forgotten Harry’s father was dead. That his mother remarried. No wonder he was touchy about the subject. 

“I’m sorry. We’re both in bad positions.”

“Then I think we should make the best of it, Zaynah. We’re both smart people. I think, at the very least, we would be a good diplomatic match between our two nations. And whomever you find better to love, I don’t think I would mind. What I mean, is, this can certainly be a marriage of convenience, if you’re willing.”

He was shocking her more by the minute. He had a strange air about him, one she couldn’t pin, but for all his bold, and almost calculated statements, he didn’t seem horrifying. In fact, he seemed to want to let her live how she liked, if she understood him correctly.

“I have a lot of respect for your family, Zaynah. This situation does not have to be all bad. We could have a lot of clout. Keep House Tomlinson at bay.” He smiled at his little joke, and Zayn couldn’t help but smile back.

“Or House Danalen.”

“Yes.” Harry stood up, wiping his hands on his napkin and approached Zayn, holding out his hand. “Consider this a marriage proposal.”


	2. Marriage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prince Harry and Princess Zaynah are wedded.

“Your majesty? We’ve got news from the West, that we think you might be very interested in.”

“I doubt it.” Louis rolled the blown glass paperweight resting on his desk around, savouring the coolness of the glass on his fingers. Outside, with the snow stirring around in little funnels, seemed inviting, but it was hot inside. His strategy room had a fireplace on either side of it, and his bedroom was no better. 

“I really think you will.” Louis finally looked up to see who was actually speaking to him. A general. Louis for a moment considered trying to remember his name, but decided it didn’t matter and tugged the envelope out of his hands.

“Did you open this without my approval?”

“You told us to open all of your correspondence so you only had to read the import—“

“Shut up.” Louis waved him to the edge of the door and pulled the paper out. It was too clean, too white. One of his spies in the South, likely. This paper had been on quite the quick trip to reach him, then. Louis felt pleased they tried so hard for him.

God. There it was in writing. Prince Henry of House Twist and Princess Zaynah of House Malik, to be married, at the nearest possible date. By royal decree. Louis felt fire creep into his vision. How fucking dare they? It was unprecedented. Made to have him permanently be the tyrant. King Robin, and for God’s sakes, King Desmond before him, used to constantly wage war with the Malik family, and it was no different when he Louis did it, or when his father did it. Now they’d be forever bonded, one happy country, and they’d come for him. They’d come for him, and they’d come for his children, and he’d be lost. He was the only thing in the way of Old King Aengus and he’d topple like a tiny little pawn against both of them if they wanted to take the North. Louis felt hot, much too hot. He whipped around to one of the offending fire places and flung his heavy cloak over it, stamping it furiously with his foot. It hurt, but Louis didn’t care. 

The stupid general, still waiting by the corner of the room, looks shocked. “Your majesty, would you like another—?”

“GET OUT!” Louis sounded shrill, like his wife in a bad mood, but he didn’t care. “I DON’T WANT TO SEE YOUR FACE!”

The general fled, and Louis took several deep breaths. That was a good cloak he just ruined, and his foot hurt, but the room felt cooler. His mind cleared a tiny bit, just enough to think. It wasn’t fair, not fair at all to be making these decisions at his age. But with a little luck, he could put the oh-so-charming Prince Harry in the same position. He remembered Harry, actually. There’d been a diplomatic dinner, he thought when he was about six or seven. Harry’s father, Desmond, had brought the nations together for a short while, after his own father was deposed and beheaded. Not that Louis minded. He never saw the bloke, except about once a week for an hour. Harry had been a bit younger, but deemed the right playmate for Louis to keep him busy, and Louis distinctly remembered the two of them having a good time. 

But that was all over now. He felt nothing for this young man. He would get what he deserved. 

“Lou?”

Louis was about to bark at whatever servant it was to leave him be, but turned at the pet name. “Eleanor?”

“The girls were wondering if you could tuck them in, tonight. I said I didn’t know if their father was busy or not.”

“Eleanor, I’m very tired.” Louis slouched back to his desk and flopped in the chair. 

“It smells like something odd was burned in here today.” Eleanor stayed still, reaching up to fiddle with her long braid. 

“It’s that.” Louis pointed vaguely in the direction of the smoldering fireplace. 

“Oh, Louis.” Eleanor looked distressed, as if she’d already sussed out his temper tantrum. Louis hated when she made that face. Like she thought that one day he would leap up and suddenly be who she wanted. He’d told her that this marriage was to produce children only, and it had, but she always seemed to hold this pathetic hope that he would suddenly want to truly be a husband. 

“I’ll go see them in the morning, alright? I really don’t think I should tonight, El.”

“Yes, yes.” Eleanor wrung her hands. “Should I stay in my own bedroom tonight, then?”

Louis nodded. It made him feel terrible when she looked sad. That wasn’t what he had wanted for her, not ever. He prayed every day that she’d take a lover, but damn her piety. She turned to leave and Louis tried to rouse himself slightly from his deep slump in the chair. 

“Sleep well.”

Eleanor nodded in response and disappeared out the door. Louis dragged himself out of the chair and looked at his messy room. Someone would clean it for him tomorrow. He had company waiting in his sleeping quarters, and Louis had been looking forward to it. 

“Phillip?” Louis stepped into his bedroom and slipped off his now careworn shoes. There he was, arranged so beautifully already in bed. He really was handsome, this one. Louis knew how to pick them. 

“I was afraid you might not come.”

“This is my room, I’d end up here eventually.” Louis padded over in his stockings and crawled onto the bed, giving Philip a long, deep kiss. Already, some of the stress of the letter was rolling off of him. He could feel what was warmly poking up at him from the bedsheets, and god, it felt inviting. He sunk in close to it and undressed on top of Phillip, profoundly needing the feeling of Phillip buried deep into him. He seemed to understand, kissing at Louis’ neck, nipping in small circles, before pushing the blankets aside. 

“Did you want to loosen up first?”

“Quickly. I need you.” Louis didn’t mind saying something so vulnerable to Phillip, although he rarely did, and flopped backwards with his legs open to put on a show for him, albeit a quick one. One, two, then three fingers, there we go. Wouldn’t take much, Louis decided. He almost wanted to feel some pain tonight. 

Of all the men Louis invited up to his room, Phillip was quite possibly his favourite. Louis used a very careful selection process, to weed out anyone who might simply hold this against him, and Louis got the sense that Phillip never would. He behaved just right, warm and docile. Not that Louis had any real feelings towards him. He was only one from a line-up, and anyway, feelings were a dangerous game. 

Phillip was tugging at his leaking cock, whining a bit pathetically for Louis. Louis sat back up and crawled back on top of him, his own cock burning with a desire to be touched. That would come, though, and Louis spat into his hand to slick Phillip up as much as possible. Not the finest solution, but, Louis remembered, he did want a little pain tonight. He guided himself onto Phillip, a cry escaping his lips despite his best efforts. He sat down as far as he could, letting himself get used to Phillip’s girth, before pulling nearly all the way off and slamming down again. Fuck. Louis knew he was a whining mess, clutching onto Phillip’s sides to keep from slipping off, but he did it again, and again. Every thrust up that Phillip made felt like relief to Louis. The letter was slipping off his mind. Eleanor’s pained face. The girls. Louis leaned down close to Phillip’s face. 

“Up for staying all night long?”

~  
Gemma swirled a hand into Harry’s hair, looking pained. 

“You can’t have it down for the wedding, Harry. Please, it will look far nicer in a bun.”

“I’m not so sure. I’ll have to put on a crown and all that. Won’t that look very strange with a bun?” Harry tapped his feet underneath his dressing table. He wished his sister would listen to him more. He knew how he liked to look. She looked critical but let him be, stepping back to let him tidy what she had just mussed. 

His mother and sister had been dressed for the wedding hours ago, but Harry had put it off. He probably shouldn’t have, but you put off things you don’t want to do, like get married. Gemma and Anne were hovering in the bedroom, and Harry knew they were both terrified he wouldn’t be ready in time. He would, but their wish to rush him wasn’t helping.

“Harry, darling?” 

“Mother, I’ll be ready, I promise. If you want to get the maroon brocade jerkin from my armoire, that would help.” 

“It’s not that, Harry.” Anne went to the armoire and found it. “I just wanted to remind you not to do anything to anger, erm...your father, today. Besides, aren’t you supposed to wear the ceremonial garb laid out for you here?”

“Not my father, mother. I won’t. I don’t want to upset the princess, she’s stressed enough as it is.” Harry struggled into the jerkin anyways, wishing he had someone to help him do it up, but he’d sent away any manservants hours ago. 

“I’m surprised you care about her feelings. You’ve been against this wedding from the start.” Gemma stepped in to help him do it up, then went and found the matching overgown. “He’ll probably be angry that you’re wearing this, anyway.”

“I might be against it but it doesn’t mean she’s a person with her own misgivings about this.” Harry gave his sister’s hand a kiss to thank her for her help and went and looked in the mirror. “I think this will do.”

“Always a contrarian, darling.” Anne sighed and got up. “We must go downstairs, or we’ll all face the wrath.”

The march downstairs to the Great Hall felt like a death march, but Harry tried to stay calm. It was far worse for the girl. She’d be away from her family practically forever now, forced to learn how to live in this terrible, terrible castle. She’d be expected to bear Harry’s fruit, too, which Harry was trying very hard not to think about. That was the most curious aspect of a wedding, Harry decided. An entire room knowing and expecting what the bride and groom were going to do that night. Harry half-hoped the princess would find a lover very quickly, someone she truly emotionally connected with, and his baby problem would be solved. 

The hall, clattering with voices of the guests, suddenly went very quiet when Harry stepped in. Harry used to love an audience as a child, always hamming it up whenever his father and mother would throw a ball or dinner, but now he wanted to flee. Gemma and his mother disappeared to their seats at the front of the hall, and Harry approached his stepfather with shaking legs. This was the closest he’d physically been to him in a long time, actually, and Robin leaned in, a weird grin on his face, before hissing.

“What are you wearing? The Maliks chose the wedding colours, they’ll be furious.”

“I didn’t know it was so important.” Harry whispered back, trying to remain non-confrontational but firm. 

Robin looked like he wished to say something else, his jowly face going red, but returned to standing stock-still when the chamber orchestra started to play in the corner. Princess Zaynah entered, and Harry was shocked to feel his breath be taken away for a moment. Swathed fully in red and gold brocade, so delicately embroidered with a million little crystals and tiny mirrors, Harry felt weak. Perhaps he should have worn the matching red and gold thing. She approached the front of the hall, and Harry could see her hands and even up here arms a bit were covered in a sort of design, swirling flowers and patterns that Harry wished he could remember the name to. A sort of temporary ink. It was beautiful, and Harry had to force himself to look up at her face. Just as beautiful. Harry wasn’t normally the sort to fall hard for someone based on looks, but she had one of the most stunning, symmetrical faces he’d ever seen. He hadn’t noticed when he had first met her at tea. She looked down, hooding her eyes from him, and Harry wished he could make her pain go away. The wedding ceremony itself began to drag on, and Harry kept trying to get a proper glimpse of her face again, but she kept it down. Even when she slid the scarf on her head down enough for them to place a crown on her artfully arranged long black hair, she kept her face down. 

Even though the ceremony seemed to never end, it was finally time for the kiss, and Harry knew she would have to bring her face up. Harry wondered what her lips tasted like, felt suddenly desperate to know, but when she brought her face up, his heart fell. She looked so distraught, like she was trying hard not to cry. That’s why she had kept her face down. Probably looking at him would have made her cry mid-ceremony. Harry felt terrible and she now looked frightened. He quickly gave her a peck on the side of her lips, almost on her cheek, and turned abruptly to sign the wedding certificate. 

~  
“What do I do now, Niall?” Zayn fumbled with the edge of her nightgown, feeling tears come to her eyes again. It was a small nightgown, to skimpy to ever be comfortable in, but she knew its purpose. Niall ran a hand through his hair, before finally sitting beside her on the bed. 

“Know how I feel about this family, Zaynah. I’m worried for ‘ya, I want to help.” Rarely did he call her anything other than “your highness,” but Zayn was never angry when he did use her name. 

“But you can’t, Niall. Nobody can help me in this. My family’s abandoned me in the hands of these people.”

“I don’t like him, Zaynah. Won’t lie t’ ‘ya. But do ‘ya think he’ll hurt ‘ya?”

“I don’t know, Niall.” Zayn broke down into full sobbing, and she desperately scrabbled for anything to stop it. Prince Harry would be here any minute. Niall leapt up to search for his own handkerchief, eventually finding it wadded up his sleeve. 

“It might be a bit used.”

“It doesn’t matter. Thank you.” Zayn dabbed at her face and looked towards the ceiling. “You should probably go now, Niall. I’ll ring for you if I need you later tonight.”

Niall sighed a bit, but disappeared out the door. Zayn wished Prince Harry would just come and get it over with. He’d behaved strangely at the wedding, looking odd and foolish in his fancy maroon outfit, staring at her uncontrollably then barely kissing her. Zayn thought she had gotten a good sense of him at their tea, but now he just seemed erratic. He slipped quietly into the bedroom, so quietly that Zayn might not have noticed for a moment, but she wasn’t in that much of a state. Perhaps even too alert. 

He was still almost entirely dressed. The only thing that had come off was his overgown.

“Zaynah?”

“Yes?” Zayn struggled to keep her voice from wavering.

“There is no need to consummate this. Nobody needs to know. If you don’t mind us sharing this bedroom for at least tonight, just for posterity’s sake.”

Zayn looked up at Harry. He was staring at her with a calm, and waiting face. He wasn’t going to hurt her. She could have slung her arms around the strange prince and hugged him, but instead, she got up and put her dressing gown on.


	3. Dragons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam and Sean are introduced, while Harry sees something frightening.

“Can you get a move on, Payne? We’ve got to make it to camp by nightfall.” Samuels turned and glanced back at Liam, scowling slightly. 

Liam sighed. He was lingering. He glanced upwards towards the sky, but it was clear. Usually they weren’t so far behind, and it was starting to become concerning. They always did keep their distance at his request, but not this far. 

“They’ll come.” Cullen was behind him, staring up at the sky too. 

“Shut up.” Liam turned to him, shaking himself out of his trance. 

“Nobody can hear us. They’ll come back.”

“What if they left?”

“Doubt it.” Cullen shoved Liam forward a bit. Liam didn’t mind, he’d probably shove back hard at anyone else in their little unit, but he got on well with Cullen. Not that he’d try to piss him off, anyway. Cullen had found out about the dragons on his own, and it was better that no one else other than him knew about them. It had bonded them a bit, even. Not that there was terribly much to discuss, on the road. There were always a few good stories after a night of drinking, but for the most part, the pack moved in quiet. 

Ansel and Arnet were a bit stupid, if Liam was honest. Liam was not exactly sure if he really had the touch of a dragon tamer, or if the twins were really just in need of anyone to help guide them when he found them. They were about seven now, still young enough to be stupid but old enough to understand Liam to at least a passable degree. They were both grey dragons, dull and best suited for hiding amongst rocks, and Liam imagined that is how he figured they probably survived all the dragon hunts and purges. It was rare and precious to even have these big dumb boys, and he didn’t take them for granted. He would go to them at night and try to teach them to listen to him better, even if it made him exhausted in the morning. It was a good thing they were otherwise frightened of people, and knew to keep their distance to begin with, but usually not this far.   
They’d gone a bit crazy at first when Cullen had stumbled upon them, until Liam had called them off. Now they would tolerate Cullen’s presence, even occasionally allowing him to touch their snout for a moment before screeching and moving away again. 

“What if they have, though? They scare so easily.”

“Yer their leader, really. We’d ‘ave ‘eard ‘em make a ruckus long ago if they were in trouble.” Cullen was very Northern, and Liam was still couldn’t get used to how heavy an accent he had. It sounded uncultured, which Liam knew was stupid because he wasn’t any more cultured than Cullen, but that was the way it was with the North. You were taught they were stupid and lesser, just like you were taught the South were dirty and uncultured too. Getting to know lads of all walks of life had changed that for Liam. 

“I hope you’re right.” 

“Are either of you going to hurry up?” Samuels mounted his horse. “You’re both fucking us up. Unless you want us to leave you behind. 

“We’re coming, jackass.” Cullen turned to Liam. “Don’t worry, Payne, they’re not far behind.”

~

Niall inhaled deeply. The cool air coming from the balcony was a welcome relief from the thick and fetid air downstairs. It was a smell Niall remembered too well, and he wished he could forget it. 

It wasn’t like this in Princess Zaynah’s kingdom. She’d wanted him close, so he lived in a room somewhat adjacent to her own. It wasn’t much bigger than Zaynah’s armoire, but it was clean and Niall was able to make it his own. Prince Harry’s castle had no rooms for servants above the ground, nor did anyone from Harry’s castle think it would be a good idea to have him up there. Downstairs with the rest of the staff was horrible, and dirty, and loud, and Niall had never been more anxious. Prince Harry’s kingdom always gave him the very worst feeling, but it made sense. 

He hadn’t been back for nearly five years now. Five years since he’d fled the kingdom, and eight years since his family and himself had fled the North during a battle with the Northeast. He remembered the stench of being trapped in a hold full of people multiple times. It made him shaky and claustrophobic and nothing terrified him more. He stayed upstairs as much as possible, hovering over the princess and irritating Prince Harry, but he still had to return to his bed at night. 

It just brought back the memories again. His mother screaming too many times. His mother screaming the last time. His father on the block. Gregory long gone before that. The time he’d spent in the darkest part of this very castle. When he finally was freed from the smell, the running and running. Running for as long as he could remember. Until Princess Zaynah. The last place he was safe. The last place that let him live, even if he stuck out sorely, his blond hair a beacon among the long, dark locks, his voice a clearer marker of his difference. 

Now Princess Zaynah felt like this far more, he knew. He knew she was being ogled from all angles by everyone, some exotic curiosity in their minds. He felt for her, far more than she ever knew. Princess Zaynah didn’t know where his family was, or why he ever ended up in her kingdom, but she liked him and that was good enough for her. She didn’t ask, but why would a princess bother to ask? He’d likely lie to keep her from worrying, even if she had. 

She was asleep right now, away from that horrible prince. Niall should really be waking her soon, he figured. He’d come up early on purpose most mornings now, sneaking onto the balcony to collect himself from the nightmares of the night before. He’d not woken up screaming in years, pushing at blankets and struggling to breathe, but it kept happening again. The rest of the staff was hostile to him, but Niall expected this. They were a hostile, violent people, in general. 

“Niall?”

Niall turned. Princess Zaynah was standing in the doorway of the balcony, her thin cotton nightgown billowing under the already crisp wind. 

“I’m sorry, yer highness, go on inside, I’m coming.” Niall tried to shuffled her inside, feeling guilty for letting himself stay outside for so long.

Princess Zaynah stayed in the doorway. “Do you come out here every morning?”

“Often. I hope ‘ya don’t mind.” 

“Why would I mind? Why do you come out here, though? It’s getting too cold these days.”

“And that’s why we’re going inside, Princess.” Niall finally shuffled her inside and shut the door. “It’s a good view, is all.”

“I know you don’t like it here, Niall.” Princess Zaynah sat back down on the bed to allow Niall to start to dress her. 

“We’re all managing, aren’t we, yer highness? I don’t have to spend any nights with that boy.”

“He isn’t so terrible.” Princess Zaynah slipped off her nightgown. Niall was the only one who was allowed to see her naked. Neither of them had said a word, but she had sensed from their meeting that he felt nothing for her body, or any woman’s body. “For talking, that is. He’s full of curiosities. Did you know he has a pressed flower collection?”

“Mmm, that is nice.” Niall felt worried. He couldn’t have her falling for this boy. The whole family were just snakes.

“I think I might let him up to the bedroom soon enough. If he likes. He hasn’t made any signs that he’d like to. He has very nice cheekbones.”

“That’s true, yer highness.” Niall’s voice was sticking in his throat. “Do ‘ya think he’ll want a child soon?”

“He said there was no rush, but yes, I imagine he will want one. At least to appease his family, you know, Niall?”

“Mmmm, oh yes.” Niall pulled a fresh chemise over Princess Zaynah’s head. “Are you ready for a child, yer highness?”

“I sense some judgment, Niall. I don’t know, really. I thought I’d pass a child on to a nanny.”

“I don’t want to lie to ‘ya. But ‘ya know how much I don’t like this kingdom.”

“I wish you’d say. There’s no need to keep any grudges anymore over some war, or whatever’s bothering you.”

“A lot of bad memories, it’s alright.”

Princess Zaynah sighed heavily. “Alright, stay mum. Too much mystery is annoying, Niall.”

~

“How are you finding married life, then?” Gemma held Harry’s arm as they walked. They took a lot of walks along the far edge of the garden. It was a good way to escape the tension in the castle for awhile. 

“It’s...” Harry tried to choose his words carefully. He could tell Gemma anything, but he couldn’t even quite clarify what he meant to say in his own mind. “It’s quiet. We usually dine together and I try to talk to her. She’s very intelligent, well-read. I enjoy spending time with her, actually.”

“But that’s all.” Gemma turned to the edge of the garden, where the forest began. “Have you...?”

“You’re my sister, Gemma. You don’t need to know all those details. But we haven’t.”

“I didn’t think so. The whole court talks about it, you know. You spent one night in the same bedroom, and after that kiss you gave her at the wedding, nobody even believed that was a legitimate night.”

“I don’t want to disrespect her. But you shouldn’t listen to all that gossip, anyway."

“Mother taught you well, I’ll give you that. No man thinks like that.”

“Maybe they should. Gemma, please tell me you won’t kowtow to your husband.”

Gemma waved her hand a bit. Harry hated that his mother did to Robin, but Robin was terrifying. It was hard enough, he knew, for Anne to even go and visit her children as much as she did. He tried to change the subject, feeling a sense of heaviness fall over them both.

“Do you remember when we used to go into the forest, Gemma, and mess about? It always felt so dangerous.”

“We were silly back then.”

“Come on, Gem.” Harry pulled Gemma’s hand.

“Harry, no. There’s lots of awful animals in there. There’s probably bandits or squatters or something too.”

“Remember when we used to think fairies and elves lived in there, though, Gem? It was so exciting, and there’s so many beautiful flowers in the forest.”

“Our gardeners fill the garden with flowers for you.”

“But these are different. Wild flowers. Come on, please?” Harry had always had such a special touch for all things outside. It always felt a bit strange to be locked up in the castle all day, because he didn’t ever feel like that was where he belonged. He knew it was silly, knew it was just because he didn’t like his lack of freedom, but he always wondered as a child if he was meant to be some sort of sprite himself. 

Gemma sighed in an over-dramatic fashion and finally followed Harry. There was a decent amount of sun peeking through the trees, so it wasn’t frightening, like the way Harry remembered when he was a child. Maybe it was just his and Gemma’s games, but they liked to pretend something was lurking behind every corner. Gemma’s face told Harry that she still felt quite similarly, her whole body practically quaking, her hand clutching onto Harry’s own quite hard. 

“Don’t worry, darling. Just look up, it’s beautiful out here.” Harry felt strangely at home, but Gemma continued to stiffen.

“I feel something, I do. Harry, we’re still close to the edge of the garden, let’s go back.” 

“Stop being so silly, Gemma.” 

“HARRY. WE ARE GOING BACK.”

Harry stopped. Gemma shout had echoed, and everything sounded suddenly oddly silent. Almost as if they’d scared off any sort of life. But it was that silence that made Harry shiver. He could suddenly understand what Gemma meant. It did feel like something was there. 

“Maybe we should go back, Gem, you’re right. I’m sorry, we’ll go back.”

Before they could turn back, Harry felt all the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. 

“Gem, stop.”

“What?”

“Don’t move.”

Gemma looked like she was about to say something, then stopped and stayed still as she was told. There was a strange rustle slightly overhead and Harry nervously looked up. 

It was a small red dragon, hanging off the edge of a tall pine. He was spiky with a long face and incredibly flared nostrils. He focused in on Harry and let a trail of smoke out of one of his big nostrils, before creeping closer. Harry felt like he was going to faint. How could there be a dragon, this close to the castle? It was impossible. They’d all be culled long ago. They’d die here, Harry and Gemma both, and it would be his fault. The dragon reached out a big talon-like foot out of the tree in front of Harry, then abruptly screeched and took off, huge wings suddenly unfolding off his tiny body. Harry turned to see Gemma still behind him, her mouth frozen open like a silent scream. 

“Gemma, RUN.”


	4. Consummation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry learns of Zaynah's dragons.

“KILLED, Zaynah, you could have had us KILLED!” Harry didn’t usually shout. He was practically frothing at the mouth, the adrenaline still rushing through him at the thought of the terrible beast that came so close to him. He was pacing up and down their bedroom, hardly looking to pay attention to her reaction, but he didn’t care. She could be upset if she wanted to. This was the biggest breach of trust he could imagine, far worse than anything she could do to hurt him. 

“Harry...” Zaynah was sitting calmly on the edge of the bed, her slight frame oddly upright. She didn’t even look remorseful. 

“NO! YOU LIED! BOTH MY SISTER AND I COULD HAVE BEEN DEAD.” Harry tried to keep his temper going, but it was difficult when the other partner of the argument was being calm. It made his temper seem foolish.

“May I speak for a moment?”

Harry turned around and stared at the carving on the oak armoire near him hard, still seething. 

“I didn’t feel ready to share that with you yet. I gave them items of yours, and your family’s, to hoard. They know your scent. I told them not to hurt you.”

Harry didn’t know which part to address first. “Which items? You took from us? Them?”

“There’s six of them. Don’t worry about what is missing. Undershirts. Very boring booty for a dragon.”

“Six?” Harry felt his heart drop into his stomach. 

“You saw Nazim. He could have killed you, but he didn’t, because he listens to me.”

Harry wished he could speak. There were six dragons living beside his own grounds and he’d had no idea. There could be bodies in the forest, lost beggars or wanderers. 

“Harry? Turn around. I don’t like talking to the back of your head. I knew you’d take it badly. Your people culled all of them, never game them a chance. They’re magnificent creatures.”

“They were ravaging whole villages.” Harry finally turned around. “Six could slaughter this castle faster than it takes to roast a pig.”

“They listen to me, Harry, so stop it. They are fully under my control.”

“They’re never fully under control.”

Zaynah got up and went over to the door. “Come here.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Harry felt his hackles raising. She shouldn’t be speaking to him like this, not when he’d just had a near-death experience and it was her fault.

“Come meet them. They will not hurt you. I promise.”

“No.”

“Please, Harry.” There was a pause, and Zaynah finally looked a bit anxious. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry Nazim scared you. I know you’re not used to them like my family is. Please come meet them.”

She’d apologized. Just what Harry knew would make his anger disappear. He couldn’t hate her, he’d forgive her, he knew he would. He nodded and allowed himself to be led out of the castle, feeling strangely numb that he forgave her so quickly. He knew he shouldn’t.

Back out to the forest edge they went, and Harry felt his anxiety reach a peak. Just earlier that day he’d been more frightened than he ever had before, and now he was looking specifically for the same beasts. He didn’t need to look, really, though, because a rush of noise above told him they were already circling, low in the trees to remain hidden from the rest of the world. He hardly dared to look up, but finally did, seeing the small red Nazim along with two massive jet black dragons, completely smooth in comparison to spiky Nazim, a large glassy looking nearly iridescent one with a back ridge that looked like broken glass shards, a rather plain looking green-ish grey one with a light tan stomach like you might see in a picture book, and one much smaller than Nazim, its eyes buggy and its flight path less smooth than the rest. It was so hypnotizing watching them that he hardly noticed Zaynah was talking to them, and then him. She had spoken her language to them first, a language Harry was starting to sort slightly, but knew little of. He sussed she said the word “mother” to them. 

She gestured first towards the two huge black ones. “So those two are Khadija and Kamaria. Don’t approach them without my permission. You’ve met Nazim, and that’s my other boy Walid there,” she pointed to the green-ish dragon. “And this is Aaliyah.” 

She made a strange noise, one that didn’t seem to belong to a human at all, and the iridescent pale dragon shot down from the group and landed on the ground, causing a thunderclap of dust. Harry almost felt like fainting, instead scrabbling for Zaynah’s arm like a child. The dragon approached and Harry wanted to tear away and run, but it instead bowed to Zaynah, as much as a dragon can, and then stuck her head out, which Zaynah then pet. 

“Touch her nose, Harry, she won’t mind.”

Harry shook his head. The huge monster didn’t have a thin stream of smoke coming out of its nose like the rest, but she was still too intimidating, even with a delicate name like Aaliyah. 

“You’ve forgotten one.” Harry pointed up at the smallest one, no bigger than a large hunting dog.

“That’s baby Nura. She might not come down but she’s friendly.”

Harry tried to be bold. It didn’t look terribly dangerous, hazily weaving between the big ones. “I might pat that one.”

Zaynah looked slightly encouraged and began speaking to the group of dragons in her language. The baby eventually tumbled down, and Zaynah carefully crouched and spoke to her again for a moment, before the baby carefully approached Harry. 

“Bow to her, Harry.”

“What? But I’m...”

“Bow to her, Harry. They respect me but you respect them.”

Harry immediately bowed, feeling annoyed with the baby beast already for being more important than himself, but not willing to risk anything regarding them. The baby then came a bit closer and screeched a tiny bit, and Harry shakily held out a hand, placing it on her nose like Zaynah had suggested with Aaliyah. The baby did not protest, instead staying calm until Harry removed his hand, kicking up more dust as it flew up to the rest of the group again. 

“How did you become their master, Zaynah?” Harry felt breathless.

“I found Aaliyah as a child. She was an adolescent and untrained. I wasn’t frightened of her, and she found that surprising. I was a very headstrong child. I trained her like one would a dog, thinking it all fun, until I began to hear more and more bad things about the dragons. So I hid her, and began searching for eggs, and when you hatch them, they are bonded with you. I still search for eggs, Harry.”

“And your family knows?”

“Of course they know. My manservant, Niall, frequently comes with me now to see them. He likes Walid best.”

“You have power over them, then?”

“Yes. I feel their energy and emotions, and they feel mine, even from some distance. It is a gift, Harry.”

Harry nodded, his eyes wandering up to watch them circle over and over. He couldn’t figure out whether this was really a gift or not, but they certainly were hypnotizing.

~

Louis paced the length of the strategy hall and back again. He had to come up with a way to get even with bloody King Robin. Well, not exactly King Robin. He was older and everyone knew he was a damn tyrant anyway. It was really the always-pristine King Yaser that was the problem, but they weren’t talking right now. And that stupid prince. The prince would be the one taking King Robin’s throne the minute he got taken down, which he was sure to. It happened to everyone except King Yaser. The Malik’s had been in power for generations, even throughout some pretty tumultuous wars. Their people always had a pretty undying trust in their ruler, and it was annoying. 

He was meant to be meeting a new general or captain or whatever that was meant to be in charge of the navy or something. He didn’t care a wit, but it was one of those things his advisors always made him do. Maybe he was too lackadaisical about the workings of his castle and his military, but he didn’t care. He just told the generals to do what they deemed best and it seemed to work out most of the time. Isn’t that what most kings did?

The man was late. Louis briefly considering punishing him, but he’d be generous this one time, considering he was new. He was a little too quick to punishing some days, but who wasn’t?

“Hello?”

“Come in.” Louis stopped pacing and turned to the door. It was a man in his late twenties, a little weasel-like and quite a bit taller than himself, although most people were. Quite a bit of hair on his head, too. Louis couldn’t help but be irritated that the man didn’t address him by his formal title when he came in. Strike two.

“You’re late.”

“I’m sorry, your highness.” Slip number three—he was king and should be called “your majesty, as he certainly wasn’t one of his bloody daughters. 

“What’s your name then?” Louis was already barking at this disrespectful man.

“General Nicholas Grimshaw.”

“Alright, Grimshaw.” Louis nodded dismissively. “Go about whatever you do, then.”

“That’s it, then? Lord, they said you were something.”

Louis couldn’t believe this. This snot-nosed, disrespectful piece of shit. “Who said I was something?”

“It doesn’t matter. They just said you were flippant and didn’t care about your nation.”

“Are you looking to be strung up, Grimshaw? I could get someone to do that, right now. Don’t you EVER speak to your king like that again, because I will do everything to make sure your death is painful, and you should well know I’m not afraid of doing that.”

Grimshaw shut up, although he looked like he wanted to say something else. Louis smoothed out his overdress and sat in a chair. 

“Sit, then, and tell me about whatever you’re going to do.”

Grimshaw sat across from him. “I’m your new tactician. They didn’t even tell you?”

“I have too many other important things that I’m doing with my day than worrying about the details.”

“Mmmmm.” Grimshaw nodded, and Louis could swear it was sarcastically. He was going to have this man hung, he swore to it in his mind. He was the most impudent man ever to speak to Louis.

“What are you going to do for me tactically, then?”

“I think you should declare war on House Twist. Not House Malik, that will be too much to handle. But you have a sparky army right now and you could really make a dent in theirs.”

A war. That seemed like so much. Louis’ idea for getting even had been a lot more personal. He was just going to have someone assassinate King Robin and force the childish and very young prince to ascend the throne. See how he’d like it.

“Our army is smaller though. A lot smaller.”

“We can pull back when the time comes, when they’re weak, and regroup, if necessary. But we can work out secret attacks, really catch them off guard.”

“How?”

“You’re a busy king, your highness, you have too many important things to do in your day than worry about details.”

~

“And he took it alright?"

“Mmhmm, eventually, Niall. He really shouted at first.” Zayn relished when Niall brushed her long hair. It felt so nice whenever anybody played with it.

“Not kind of him.”

“Almost rather liked it on him. It was so, I don’t know, masculine.”

Niall nodded wordlessly. It was frustrating that Niall couldn’t see how grossly he was misreading most of Harry’s family, the King excluded.

“Will you ever share why you seem to be so against him, Niall? He’s about your age, you appeared frazzled in my backyard when you were what, fourteen or fifteen? What could he have possibly done to you personally?”

“It’s just his people in general, yer highness.”

“Stop that, Niall. It’s that sort of talk that causes wars with people. You should know better.”

Niall nodded, duly chastised, and finished brushing her hair, letting her get up and sit on the bed. It had been a bit of a draining day, having to admit to the dragons, but Zayn felt she had stayed in good control of the situation. It wasn’t ideal that she’d had to admit to it because Harry was stupid enough to walk into the forest unsupervised, and she knew how close to being killed he really had been, but at least it was over with and out in the open, with Harry and his sister at least. Her father had insisted this stay quiet for as long as possible from King Robin, and Zayn agreed that was probably wise. He had a quick temper and Zayn had no idea what that would entail against her. 

“Niall? If you could let Prince Harry’s man know that he may come up after he’s ready preparing for bed, that would be lovely. Prince Harry can come up, I mean, not his man.”

That did get a little chuckle out of Niall. “Alright. Be careful, though, okay?” 

“I know you worry about me, Niall, but I’ll be fine.”

Niall nodded a tiny bit and took his leave from the bedroom. Zayn couldn’t tell herself what was making her allow Harry up, but something just felt right about it. Maybe it was this new bond they now shared, this secret knowledge, or maybe it was finally seeing him as something other than a weak and curious young boy with strange collections and interests. Whatever it was, Zayn didn’t mind seeing him tonight, and she hoped he felt the same. It was quite possible he was angrier than he let on and wouldn’t come up, but he had seemed alright. He was making her wait, regardless. She’d be made to look a fool if he didn’t show, and Harry didn’t seem the type to want to humiliate someone. 

The doorknob turned, and Zayn felt relief. He stepped in, his hair loosely tied up in a low bun, a bright green robe she’d not seen on him before over his nightdress. 

“Did you wish to talk, Zaynah?

“No.” Zayn walked over and smoothed out a crease on the robe, before leaning in and giving him a kiss. A bold move, she knew. He’d not given her a proper one, even at the wedding. He could have pulled off, but he instead stayed still for a moment, his lips not moving, before returning the kiss. His face looked shocked when she finally pulled off herself.

“Zaynah?”

“Please tell me this is what you want, Harry.” 

Harry nodded a tiny bit and slid the strap of Zayn’s nightgown down a bit, leaning down to give her neck and collarbone tiny kisses. Like all things Harry did, it felt a little odd but somehow safe, and this time, it felt like she was loved. 

Harry kept going with what he was doing, being slow and methodical as he moved to her shoulder, and Zayn felt impatient. She slid her nightgown down to reveal her breasts, and Harry’s breath hitched a bit. 

“Come on, Harry, enjoy them.” Zayn now desperately wanted to be touched and loved. This house was cold and unwelcoming and her only safe bastion was the now recently very cranky Niall, and it was taking its toll. He moved down to where he was told, kissing gently before sucking a nipple with more fervor than Zayn expected. Zayn felt herself letting out a sound of pleasure and slipping the rest of the nightgown off. Harry made a low noise deep in his throat, and Zayn loved it. A tiny part of her wished he’d take control, but she knew he wouldn’t. He was far too gentle that way. Instead, she watched him remove his own robe and then hesitate over his nightshirt. 

“Yes, Harry, I want to see. Do you want me to see?”

Harry nodded, his face looking conflicted. 

“What’s wrong, then?”

“I didn’t want to be married to you, and I know you didn’t want to be. I told myself so many times it should be a marriage of convenience only, but now I’m not so sure I feel that way. I’m not sure I’ve felt that way for awhile.”

“Harry. I’m quite literally standing naked in front of you, asking to see your manhood. If this doesn’t clear up whether you want to do this or not I really don’t know what to tell you.”

Harry laughed, shockingly, as Zayn hadn’t meant to be funny, and stripped off his nightshirt. “You always shock me, Zaynah. Shake a little sense back into me.”

“You’re too much of a dreamer. You get caught up in your own head.” Zayn came over and kissed him again, taking hold of his member and stroking up and down. He shuddered and cried out quietly, letting Zayn lead him over to the bed. 

“Lay down, Harry.” 

Harry lay down obediently, hesitant to even reach down and touch himself without some sort of permission from Zayn. She wished he could be more forward, but that was a lot to ask of him. He’d get there. Instead, she carefully touched herself to make herself more wet, hoping that would make him excited. It wasn’t something she tended to do very often for herself, and the sensation always made her leap a little at first, but it was good. Harry finally grabbed hold of himself and watched, and Zayn noted with some curiosity that little dribbles of his seed were already coming out of him. He didn’t seem concerned, instead reaching up and stroking her waist tenderly with his free hand. Zayn decided there probably was no better time than now to let him enter her, took hold of his member to try and arrange herself onto it. That really made Harry moan, now holding onto both sides of her hips to keep her stable while she tried to slip on, but it was trickier than she’d expected. That made them both giggle, and with that moment of relaxation, it happened, faster than Zayn expected. It hurt, and Zayn found herself pulling off again. 

“Are you alright?”

“Went awfully fast, hold on.” Zayn tried to do it again, taking a few deep breaths to relax her muscles again, and this time went slower. That was better. Still a little sharper feeling than Zayn had expected, but better. He carefully tried rocking up slowly into her, as awkward as usual, but everything just seemed charming coming from him. Zaynah nodded at him to do it more, touching herself to help this situation. It was both a good and slightly unpleasant feeling, really. Being filled up was nice, she had to admit, but she’d expected more of a pleasurable sensation in general inside her. Hopefully if they did this more, it would feel better. She cut them both some credit, being so new to this. 

Harry’s face was going bright and red as he came close to reaching his peak. It was so unfair, how quickly and easily men could just do that. His orgasm was the strangest feeling part of all, although she liked it a little more than just the thrusting. Her whole insides felt momentarily filled with heat, but not in a bad way, just in a warm way. His face stayed screwed up for a moment, then relaxed. 

“Zaynah?”

“Yes?”

“Let me touch you, you can pull off.”

“What does it matter now?”

“I rushed through that, very ungentlemanly of me to come before you.”

“I didn’t know I was meant to.”

Harry looked surprised as Zayn crawled off him anyway. “Really? Have you ever?”

Zayn felt slightly uncomfortable. “I don’t know.”

“Let me try to make you know for sure.”

Zayn nodded, always amazed at Harry’s selflessness. She opened up her legs for him when she lied down, and Harry rubbed with two fingers. He did it a lot more intensely than she ever did on herself, and it felt far better than she was expecting. She could see what Harry meant, as a feeling of tension mounted in her nether regions. It was a tension you wanted to see to the end, and Zaynah felt herself squirming as he kept going, rubbing in just the right spot harder and faster. 

And then she felt it. A moment of total chaos in her mind, a desperation to keep feeling whatever she was feeling. She heard herself call out Harry’s name, and just as quickly as the desperation to keep feeling this strange and wonderful pleasure came, it left and she grabbed Harry’s hand and pulled it off her, feeling overwhelmed. 

“Not felt that before, Zaynah?”

“No.” Zayn watched her breasts heave with each shaky breath, her legs still splayed open but too sensitive to close. 

“Did you like it?”

Zayn could scarcely nod. “Yes, I did.”

“Then we’ll have to practice some more, won’t we?”

~

“Did ‘ya ‘ear wot MacDermott was going off about during supper?” Cullen tossed a rock in Arnet’s direction, who took off after it like a dog.

“No, I didn’t. What did he say?” Liam felt tired after a long day of walking. They’d slipped out of the camp after supper to go say hello to the boys, staying longer than usual. It was a cold night and they really should be heading back to camp, they both knew, but it was nice to be able to chat in some peace without a dozen other men milling around.

“’E said dere were a lot of rumours going about tat King Louis has declared war on King Robin, or tat ‘e’s going to.”

“Reckon we know what that means.” Arnet had returned, having long destroyed the rock, and curled up with his brother, already resting placidly a few paces away from Liam. 

“Bunch of us dead, ‘ya reckon?”

“Well, certainly if anyone decides to go over to good ol’ King Tommo’s side. I won’t. We should talk to everyone in the morning and see where they’re headed.”

“Likely towards th’ West, take it from dere. I don’t tink many want t’ go t’ King Louis.”

Liam nodded pensively. There was always a fresh war, but if this one was true, it probably would be a nasty one. It made sense. King Louis felt threatened by the new pact between King Yaser and King Robin and he was going to lash out. He was only a few years older than himself, Liam figured, although he couldn’t count for sure. 

“Once we’re in range of concentrated city folk there, what are we going to do with Ansel and Arnet?”

“Dere’s a lot of forest nearby, wouldn’t worry too much. Lord, ‘ya ‘aven’t been ‘ome proper in ages if ‘ya forget tat.”

“Suppose I haven’t.”


	5. Proclamation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> King Louis declares war on King Robin, so Liam and Sean make their way to the West to join King Robin's ranks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know how long it's been! But I haven't given up on this story! :)

Harry tried to cover his head under the thick blankets. He’d woken abruptly from a sharp pounding noise and he was in no mood to be interrupted this early. He’d half-hoped it was all in his head, the start of a terrible headache, but alas, the noise was still emanating from the door. 

Princess Zaynah stirred beside him, evidently a far heavier sleeper than he was. Harry was still getting used to Zaynah sleeping next to him, but he was enjoying it, even in his awkward way. They had been now staying in the same bedroom for about a month, and it was curious, Harry decided, becoming someone’s lover after you were married to them. He had gotten comfortable with being her day companion, showing her his favourite flowers and his collections all around the castle, but it had been harder for Harry, much harder, he thought, than Zaynah to get used to making love. She’d laughed gently at his stiffness and fumbling, and he was getting better. She’d seemed so hard at first, so angry, but she wasn’t, and Harry felt grateful that she’d actually took to him, even though he wouldn’t have been insulted if she hadn’t. 

She really was waking up at this pounding, now. No way for a princess to wake up. Harry got his robe and slung it on, feeling angry with whomever was at the door. Servants knew to slip in and do their business after a quiet single knock at the door, so it couldn’t possibly be one of them. 

It was Gemma. She looked furious, more furious than Harry was expecting. 

“What’s wrong, dear?” Harry adjusted his robe modestly. “You could have stepped inside and woken us. I apologize. Are we very late for something? Princess Zaynah’s young man hasn’t been in with her breakfast.”

“I didn’t want to walk in on anything. You never know, the way you two have been.” Gemma pushed her way inside to sit on a divan at the end of the bed. “You have to get dressed.”

“Why? What on earth could I have done?” Harry looked up at the bed. Zaynah was blinking gently, her dark locks falling across her chest, Harry noted, with amusing modesty. She did not look happy at the commotion, but who could blame her?

“Nothing, but you have to get downstairs soon, he’s throwing a fit.”

“What about?” Harry went into his armoire and hid while he put something on. He always felt nervous when Robin threw a fit, mostly for his mother. 

“You won’t believe it.” 

“Then tell me, if it’s so unbelievable.” Harry stepped out from behind the armoire door, at least presentable enough, if a bit sloppy. He swirled his hair up into a quick bun and glanced over at Zaynah, who looked more annoyed that everyone was spoiling her morning. “But tell me outside, we can go now.”

“Does this have anything to do with me? Should I get up?” Zaynah pulled the blanket over herself closer. 

“This is going to affect all of us, but you can rest for now, have your breakfast.” Gemma took Harry’s hand and started dragging him out of the room. Zaynah looked angry and started to get up, as they left, even though Niall had not arrived to dress her. Harry felt a bit guilty, but more anxious than anything, and let Gemma pull him along. As they reached the ground floor he could already hear Robin’s roaring, and felt relieved to see his mother in the hall, rather than in that beast’s study with him. 

“What’s going on, Mama?” Harry took her hands as they approached and gave her a kiss on each cheek. 

“I’ll tell you out here, no point going inside at the moment.” Anne looked overheated and stressed. “King Louis has declared war on us. They’re always such rough battles with his people, they fight so dirty. I know we haven’t had one since King Mark was taken down, but we lost so much, and at what cost?”

Harry felt shocked. “Why? What did we do to warrant it? We’ve been peaceful, well, mostly.”

“No reason, at the moment, the proclamation fails to make note. He has a new tactician and His Majesty doesn’t know how he works yet, and how to counterattack when the time comes.”

“What do we do, then?” Harry felt the wind out of him. He was too little to understand the battles when he was small. He always felt fairly safe in the castle, so isolated from the horrors going on around him. It felt immediately more real, despite nothing having had occurred yet. 

“Nothing, yet. We can’t do anything until he makes the first move, but rest assured it will be swift.”

“I hate that horrible little man.” Gemma was seething. “He sits up in that castle and just orders everyone about, and it always hurts not just our people but his own.”

Harry felt this statement could be extended pretty easily to King Robin, but he knew Gemma already felt that.

~

“Safe enough, ‘ya reckon?” Cullen looked up at Arnet, who was pacing the forest and sniffing the air carefully, little tendrils of smoke coming out of his nostrils. 

“They’ll be fine. They’re hidden away well here, don’t you think? Handy that this is right near the castle.” Liam climbed off Ansel and let him sniff the area too. Ansel had begun to let him climb on and off for short low flights, and Liam always felt exhilarated by them. 

“Seem a little tense.”

“Different foliage, Cullen, they’re fine. Now, do you think someone from King Robin’s camp will talk to us today?”

“Let’s just try t’ get somethin’ from an inn t’ eat, right? We can reach them tomorrow.”

“I can’t believe that bastard King Tommo actually did do it. I knew we’d heard word, but I’m not sure how much I believed it.”

“I did.” Cullen picked up a rock and flung it sharply into the forest growth. Liam knew Cullen’s people had been pretty brutally slaughtered about eight years before, and had been consistently attacked before that point and certainly after. No reason for him not to believe harm was coming to people. 

Ansel suddenly shot his head up, alert, jerking Liam from his thoughts. 

“You alright, Ansel?” 

Arnet looked alert too, and sniffed the air more carefully, before laying his belly close to the ground and slinking across the dirt, a thin and strange growl coming out of him. 

“Wot are dey doin’?” Cullen looked nervous and backed up. 

“I have no idea. Arnet, come back! Over here!” Liam tried to sound commanding. It didn’t work, and Ansel crept along with Arnet, growling too.

“Wot do dey...” Cullen began to speak before he screamed, a strange, inhuman noise that Liam had never heard him make, and they’d been in battle together. Liam looked up from Ansel and Arnet crawling in the dirt, and wanted to scream too. A huge shiny black dragon was standing about fifteen yards away, so oddly sleek that it looked like a beetle’s shell. It suddenly shrieked and opened its wings, coming towards Ansel and Arnet, who also flared their wings and screeched, Ansel taking the first lunge and running towards the huge beast. 

Liam wished he knew what happened next, but he did know there was fire, and that he and Cullen ran, to where in the forest, he didn’t know. He also knew there was suddenly silence and a lone dragon shriek after they were far enough away. 

“WOT TH’ FOOK WAS TAT?” Cullen had a crazed look in his eye.

“I have no idea, Cullen, just stay fucking calm!” Liam crept back a bit. “They’ve gone quiet.”

“Because tat fookin’ thing killed both of ‘em with one hit. Don’t go fucking back!”

“It was too quick. Come on!”

“NO.”

Liam felt frustrated with Cullen and stomped off on his own. Did King Robin know there was a dragon in his forest? He was filled with questions, but his first one was whether Ansel and Arnet were okay. He could sense, in a very strange way, where they were, which he couldn’t explain, but he somehow knew how to walk back to them. 

They were waiting, lying down tensely on their stomachs, like they often did if they were resting but on guard. The huge black one was doing the same, and there was a tiny woman in between all three. She had long black hair down past her waist and something rather luxurious looking on for someone in the forest. She had her hands out and all three of the dragons were slowly calming down and putting their heads down, Liam could see Ansel had a gash on the side of his neck when he did this, but it didn’t look too serious. 

There was a small blonde young man that Liam hadn’t initially noticed off to the side, in tidy but far less lavish clothing. He noticed Liam, and came forward to speak to the dark haired woman, who turned to him, looking furious. 

“Are these your charges?”

“I....” Liam was shocked at this woman’s beauty. The features were so fine, in particular, her fiery brown eyes with some of the longest lashes he’d ever seen, long enough that he could note them even from the small distance separating them. She had to be from somewhere in the South, he decided, with her darker complexion, and wondered what she was doing this far away from home. 

“Are they?”

“Yes. Ansel, Arnet, come here.”

The woman gestured downward at them and they stayed put. “Let them calm down.” 

Liam was shocked at how they seemed under a trance by her. He practically was too, it seemed, as he couldn’t take his eyes off her. 

“Where did you get these beasts?”

“Oh, no, the black one isn’t mine, I found Ansel and Arnet as youths several years back.” Liam had no idea why he was blowing his entire cover and telling this woman, who he deemed had to be a witch, or something. There was no way she could command these dragons so easily. 

“Of course the black one isn’t yours. Are you their master?”

“Erm, yes.”

“Then you don’t do a very good job.” The woman turned and came closer to Liam. “And you bow to royalty when you meet them.”

Oh god. Liam felt struck. This was King Yaser’s daughter. He’d heard that one of his older daughters had been married into King Robin’s family. It explained the rich garb, and they were so close to the castle as well. He fell to his knee, feeling more and more embarrassed about this entire situation. “Your highness. I am so, so sorry. I am from out of town and did not recognize your grace.”

“You sound like you’re from here.” The princess, which Liam did remember was named Zaynah, got up and walked away from Liam, over to the massive black dragon, whom she then pet. It snorted gently, a little puff of smoke amiably trailing out its nose as Princess Zaynah continued to stroke it. 

“I...I’m a mercenary. I’m here to see what I can do about the war. My group wishes to swear allegiance to King Robin.”

“And you intended to shove your dragons in the forest right beside the castle and call it a day?”

Liam realized she was the master to this beast, which shocked him. You never heard of female masters in all the old stories when dragons roamed freely. “You have, haven’t you?”

He expected her to fly into a rage, but instead Princess Zaynah broke into a strange and sweet sheepish grin. “How right you are. What is your name, mercenary?”

“Liam Payne.”

“Does anyone know of your dragons, Payne?”

“Only one. Another mercenary named Cullen. He was with me, he’s run off into the forest.”

“Heavens. Niall, go find the young man before there’s more upset.” Princess Zaynah looked sharply at Liam. “I have six dragons in this forest and there’s about to be two more. This is serious and we need to keep it as quiet as possible.”

“On me way.” The small blond man jogged off into the direction that Liam had come from, and Liam noted that he had the same accent as Cullen, but substantially less strong. A northerner. 

“Of course I’ll be quiet, I don’t want anything to happen to them. Six, you say?”

“Yes, and they’re all trained to behave, so you have a lot of work to do. I will help, of course, to keep them from chewing each other apart. I can teach them to obey you, and you to honour them properly.”

Liam felt hazy. This princess and him, working together, and so abruptly. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I will not have anyone’s livelihoods destroyed because of them. I love them.”

Liam nodded slightly, still dizzy from all this.

“So, Payne, we are to be friends. Do I have a vow of secrecy?”

Liam nodded again.

~

Niall tried to keep his annoyance to himself. He knew that neither Zaynah or this stupid man could leave the dragons, but that just meant he got the fun task of wandering around the forest looking for another stupid man before one of Zaynah’s other dragons got him first. Less than an ideal way to spend the afternoon. 

At least it was a nice day, and a better way to spend it than inside the castle, he consoled himself. Things had only gotten worse downstairs, and it was hard even being upstairs now. He hated that Zaynah had allowed that man into her life and he was always there now when he came to dress her. It ruined the relief he used to get after being downstairs all night.

“Hello?”

Niall turned. His afternoon was about to get easier, at least. “Hello? Are you called Cullen, wherever you are?”

A man appeared from behind a tree, and Niall decided this was probably him. Dressed similarly to this Liam Payne, in random but durable items of clothing with his longsword at his hilt, he looked strong and slightly weathered, but still somehow young and baby-faced. He had dark hair that was short but stuck up a little, and a scruffy bearded face. A real country man. 

“Is ea. Cé tusa?”

Niall was taken aback at this Cullen’s demand for his name in his old language. He hadn’t spoken his native tongue in years. There were too many languages bandied about in Niall’s mind, from Zaynah’s native tongue to the language of Prince Harry’s land, to even some of the language Zaynah spoke to the dragons. 

“Niall Horan, servant to Princess Zaynah.” Niall didn’t want to respond in his old language. It only made him feel the trauma again. He supposed this Cullen had done it because he noticed Niall’s accent, but he still wasn’t about to indulge him. “Yer friend Payne is fine, we’ve got to get ‘ya caught up on what is going on.”

“I’ll introduce meself properly, den. Sean Cullen.” Cullen took off one of his gloves and offered a dirty and rough hand. Niall didn’t really want to take it, but did so gingerly anyway. 

“Tank you, then, Cullen. Let’s go, then, I’ll show ‘ya to Payne.”

“’Ya can call me Sean.” Cullen followed beside Niall. 

“No, that’s alright.”

Cullen shrugged this off and tried again. “How’d ‘ya end up ‘ere? Where in the North are ‘ya from? We might ‘ave been neighbours.”

Niall did not want to talk about this, not whatsoever. He did not have a connection with this dirty man just because they were born in the same vast area. They likely weren’t neighbours anyway, blonde people tended to come from one area while darker haired ones even further north. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Not a chatty bloke, are ‘ya? ‘Ya work for a princess? Wot’s she got t’ do with dragons?”

“All this’ll get explained.” Niall sighed, trying to be patient. “I met the princess at a young age and we got along well.”

“Right-o.” Cullen walked quietly along for a minute, before piping up again. “Horan, eh? Reckon I might ‘ave ‘eard of the Horans. ‘Ow big of a family are ‘ya?”

He was too much. “I don’t talk about me family to strangers, I’m sorry t’ disappoint, Cullen.”

“Den we’ll ‘ave t’ get a drink at a pub and become friends, den, won’t we? I ‘aven’t met many of us around.”

Niall furrowed his brow at Cullen. What a smarmy annoyance. “Reckon I’ll have to decline, it’s very important I stay here with the princess.”

“Suit yerself. Suppose this castle life ‘as made ‘ya think all of us regular folk are disgustin’.”

Niall stopped and turned to him sharply. “Shut up about what ‘ya don’t know.” 

“Sorry, sorry.” Cullen shrugged and followed along until they reached the clearing that Zaynah and Payne were waiting in, and Niall drifted back to behind Zaynah. He didn’t need this man bringing up painful memories. 

~

Zayn felt ill. She’d felt off for several days now, especially following the announcement of war from King Louis. The illness kept coming when she least expected it, and it made her run for a bowl to throw up in, particularly at night after supper. She ached all over her chest and stomach, particularly in her lower stomach, but practically anywhere was more sensitive than she recalled. It wasn’t every day or every moment, though, and Harry had not noticed at all, but the dragons certainly had, moving carefully around her and nudging her gently, which was a bit worrying. That was the frustrating part. Whenever she felt like she should tell Harry how much she was throwing up, she’d feel okay again, and forget about it, not wanting to worry him over nothing.

Niall told her she should probably ask the doctor to come around, but Zayn truthfully didn’t really want any of the doctors from Harry’s family to see her. She might have if it were the doctor she knew from home, but it wasn’t and she was getting stubborn. She hoped it wasn’t some horrible pest she wasn’t immune to from this part of the land that she didn’t know about. 

“Feeling any better, yer highness?” Niall came in with a large basin of water and a soft cloth. She’d thrown up already in secret and didn’t want to worry Harry, telling him to go play cards and games with his sister and mother for the night after supper while she rested upstairs. Niall had suggested a light bath, but Zayn didn’t even want to get up to go to the tub, so he was bringing the bath to her. 

“No, not really. My stomach is just turning.” 

“Imagine ‘ya were very stressed today, from all the upset with the new dragons. Maybe it’s made yer stomach worse.”

“Yes, maybe.”

“Did you feel so poorly yesterday?”

“No, yesterday was better.” Zayn let Niall strip her down and put the warm wet cloth on her. 

“We might make the bed a bit damp.”

“That’s okay, Niall.” Zayn closed her eyes and reclined fully, letting Niall wash the cold sweat off her. 

“Yer highness?” Niall had paused, and he sounded a bit stressed. 

“What, Niall?” What he was doing felt so nice, and she was annoyed that it was paused.

“Between yer legs, I mean. It’s too early in the month, but...”

Zayn sat up a bit and looked down. Blood. It was too early. Much too early. 

“We need t’ call a doctor, Zaynah.” Zayn always knew how serious Niall was being when he didn’t call her by her title and instead by her name. Now she did feel nervous. 

“Okay. Call one up. Don’t tell Harry yet, alright? Try to just get one to come up, please don’t worry Harry with all this.”

Niall nodded and got up, disappearing out the door. Zayn wanted to move, to do something to ease the pain, but the only thing that gave any relief was laying the warm cloth over her lower stomach. God, she hoped Niall would hurry.


End file.
